


Healing Communication

by TheLastDruid



Series: The Last Druid [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Knotting, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Purring, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastDruid/pseuds/TheLastDruid
Summary: Eadric's first experience with giving head.Part 2 of The Last Druid series.
Relationships: Aleks/Eadric, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Last Druid [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578373
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Healing Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is some roleplay writing that takes place within a game universe, titled 'The Last Druid'. You don't necessarily need to have read the explanatory 'fic' to enjoy the smut, but if you want to read it, you can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913840/chapters/52304998

Eadric can’t discern how or why he allowed his life to become this overwhelming. He sort of thought his life was _over_ since he was branded and kicked from his pack. Then Listen had asked him for a favour, which had led to Aleks, a secret he couldn’t even tell a secret-keeper, and apartment hunting.

Aleks was kind of the pivotal figure, in this. It’d started out being Listen, but then Eadric had… kind of started to _like_ Aleks. He was kind, but not in that condescending way people were sometimes nice to homeless, packless outcasts. He was awkward, but not in the off-putting way Eadric himself could be. He was scarred, but the complex patterns carved into his skin weren’t an ugly mark of shame.

No, definitely not ugly. Aleks was… really, really not ugly. Eadric didn’t want to say out loud what that _did_ make Aleks, because certain words tripped him up and felt inappropriate or embarrassing to say. But he was hot, okay? Eadric thought he was hot, so fucking sue him.

Even when he was being irritatingly helpful. Eadric hated that apartment hunting was proving to be so stressful. He was a grown-ass adult who’d never been able to look for somewhere to live, before; he didn’t know how it was done. He felt like a child being led through a labyrinth of requirements and clauses, Aleks narrowing the search to places that were close to transit and didn’t overcharge.

“Are you going to be getting a bus pass? Do you want to, like, I dunno. Look into getting your license, or like, renewing it, I dunno if you ever drove--I didn’t? Or are you thinking of biking, I used to do that a lot before I had the money for transit. Someone fucking stole it, actually, the day I met Neil…” Aleks is scrolling through his phone with one hand and circling ads to look into in a newspaper with his left. He taps the pen cap against his teeth while he reads over the listings on his phone, pulling a face at whatever he finds there. “Do you care if they have laundry in the unit? Or like, is in the basement okay?”

“Yeah.” Eadric doesn’t register for a few seconds that his response could have meant literally anything. His head is swimming. “I mean, I don’t care. When the fuck would I have learned to drive?”

But he could learn, now. If he wanted to. He could afford lessons. Whatever place he winds up getting won’t leech all the life out of his bank account – Speaking of which? He has a bank account, now. The goddamn President had his goddamn secretary personally assist him in setting one up. What the _fuck_ is his life?

Aleks hunches in on himself a bit, but just shrugs. “I dunno. I dunno when you--and it seemed rude to assume, actually, so I’m not sorry I asked, nevermind. Was that a yes to the laundry in the basement? You probably want laundry somewhere on site, laundromats suck.”

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t really matter as long as it’s not at a laundromat,” Eadric mutters, kind of to himself. He can’t imagine wasting his time there when he could be around Aleks. Flavia saw too many potential futures with Aleks’ life in danger for Eadric to be comfortable anywhere else.

He sinks back against the couch, pretending to stare at the laptop perched on Aleks’ knees. Really, he’s staring at his thighs. There’s nothing suggestive about what Aleks is doing or wearing, but Eadric has only seen three people naked and apparently has a good memory for it.

Something occurs to him. He blurts the question out, mostly because he’s alarmed by the conclusion his mind wants to jump to.

“Your scars, they don’t hurt when I touch ‘em, right?”

His brand still hurts. It always hurts. Suddenly, all he can think about is running his hands along Aleks’ bare legs and, like an ignorant asshole, hurting him in the process.

“Hmmm?” Aleks looks up, the cap of the pen caught between his teeth. In typical Aleks fashion, research has quickly devolved into a mess of sources: the two electronics, three newspapers, and a notebook for taking down important information. The pen has left a smear of green ink on his cheek, when it was flipped the wrong way and he brought it up to chew on the pen cap. He sounds absent-minded. “No, they don’t really feel like much of anything, really. Too much nerve damage. Sometimes in the winter they get dry and, like, crack? Since they’re not properly elastic anymore? Sometimes when I heal stuff they just, like, bleed spontaneously, that’s annoying. Wait--do yours?” He drops the pen on the couch, suddenly serious.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s fucking – it’s different,” Eadric shrugs uncomfortably. “It’s not supposed to heal, that was the point.”

This was not what he wanted. He didn’t want to have to talk about it. He just had to make sure, before he...

Before he what, exactly? It wasn’t like he was planning on stripping Aleks right now and getting up close and personal with his thighs.

And then it occurs to him: he absolutely could.

“... Can I see them?”

It takes Aleks a minute to parse the question: first he has to get out of his own head, the spiral of regret he’s been sinking into lately whenever his own limitations come up. Then he has to wrap his mind around the fact that Eadric _wants_ to. His face works its way through about five different emotions in the span of a minute, before settling on something cautious and confused.

“I mean. Yeah, I guess, it’s not like you haven’t already. I don’t really wanna--like it’s fine if you look, I mean, that doesn’t bug me. But I don’t want to. Look at them, myself.”

“Move the laptop.” Eadric turns his body, shifts closer. He meets Aleks’ eyes for all of a second, then averts his gaze because it’ll be easier for them both if they don’t do that too much. “I was, you know. Just thinking.”

His hands go to tug at the waistband of Aleks’ pants. Unwittingly, his claws tear the fabric a little.

“ - Shit – I was gonna say – I can grab the blindfold, if you don’t want to see shit?”

Aleks pauses in the act of setting the laptop to the side, looking a little startled and intrigued at where Eadric’s claws have made the smallest rips. When he hears what Eadric asked, the tension he wasn’t really aware he was holding in his body leaves him, a little.

“That would be… good, yeah. I know it’s not, like, as bad as it could be, it just. It doesn’t look like me anymore?” He runs a hand through his own hair distractedly. “It--you probably get that. I… do you want me to, uh, strip? Here or the bed?”

Ideas are starting to slide into place. In a weird way, he’s decided he kind of likes ripping Aleks’ clothes. He’s a lot less guilty than he should be, in any case. Still, Eadric isn’t going to go ahead and shred them without asking.

Now, if he could figure out how to even _ask_ that.

“I kind of want to, just-... I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to, but I kind of just want to do shit to you, if that’s... okay? I could strip you. I could do... whatever, to you. If you _want_ it.”

Pink flush slowly spreads over Aleks’ cheekbones, high up over the tips of his ears and the pale yellow of his fading bruise. He isn’t sure what to say, to that, so what he ends up blurting out in an embarrassing show of honestly is, “I kind of always want you?”

Then he looks a little stricken, having heard himself speak, and forges on with less confidence: “I mean. You can strip me, that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Fuck. Eadric wants to kiss him. It’s an urge he’s becoming familiar with, and he deals with it the same way he has before; he buries his face against Aleks’ neck and rubs against it, breathing in. It’s hard to describe the individuality of scent, but the best way Eadric could possibly put it would be to say that Aleks smells like _clean_ . If he didn’t know better (and he _does_ know better) he could’ve attributed it to purity, but Aleks isn’t ‘pure’ anything.

Thank the Lady for that. Purity makes Eadric uncomfortable. He isn’t even sure if people _can_ be pure. People are complex and needy and confusing. So no, it’s not purity, it’s not some reflection of Aleks’ soul or whatever, it’s just. It’s just nice.

“I’ll get the blindfold first,” he murmurs. Eadric pushes himself up off the couch and goes to retrieve the strip of cloth.

This is the thing about Aleks, that isn’t terribly hard to notice: When people are gentle with him, he _melts_ . It’s like he isn’t used to touch being pleasant, or like he isn’t used to it being allowed, or maybe both--regardless, he hasn’t offered more than bits and pieces of an explanation. It’s worrisome, but it means that he inevitably goes pliant when Eadric nuzzles up against him; means that when Eadric ties the blindfold over his eyes, careful not to yank or let his hair get caught in the knot, the stiffness, the _smallness_ he carries around with him everywhere, it leaves him all in a rush. He’s smiling softly when Eadric turns him on the spot, fabric secure over his eyes.

The blindfold doesn’t only free Aleks. He’s seen Eadric’s face and hasn’t expressed his repugnance, but that doesn’t mean he wants to subject Aleks to his brand any more than necessary. Once the fabric is tied, Eadric’s mask comes off.

He encourages Aleks to sink back into the couch again, drops the mask on the laptop keyboard, and kisses him like he’s missed him. He has missed _this_ , it’s not off the mark. Eadric’s teeth catch lightly on his lower lip, drawing it briefly into his mouth while his hands go for Aleks’ pants again. He gets this fleeting image of raking his claws through the fabric, but Aleks unknowingly heads him off by raising his hips. He lets Eadric take them off, stays the urge to tangle his hands in Eadric’s hair while being divested of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

Clothing is absently flung several feet away. Eadric eases Aleks’ thighs apart with one hand on each, retracting his claws before it can slip his mind, and he sinks to his knees between them.

“Still good?”

“Yeah,” Aleks breathes, sounding a little dazed. His hands stroke over Eadric’s shoulders, tentative, looking to settle in his hair again. “I like--I like it when you kiss me. What are you doing?” He doesn’t sound worried, just curious. Hopeful? He shudders involuntarily when Eadric’s palms slide up the insides of his thighs.

Slowly dragging his thumbs up towards the apex, Eadric drops a kiss against his knee. It’s kind of a stall. Fuck, what _is_ he doing?

“I want to try to blow you?” Eadric hesitates. “I’ll probably be shit at it. I’ve never – I want to make it good for you, but I don’t even know if you fucking _want_ me to?”

Aleks’ breath catches, not only audibly but visibly--Eadric can see the hitch in the rise and fall of his chest, which is slowly flushing red. “ _Gods_ \--of course I fucking-- Yeah.” Aleks nods, probably too eagerly, probably too fast. “I. I want that, but you don’t… like you don’t have to? I do that ‘cuz I like it? And it’s okay if you don’t, I mean, if you don’t end up--like that’s okay.” He stammers through it all, like he can’t stop himself.

“Shut up. Okay? Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” It was meant to be reassuring. Eadric thinks he probably just wound up sounding like an asshole, again. “I’ll like it if you like it, so just... Tell me if I’m fucking it up.”

Part of him wants to ask Aleks to tell him what to do every step of the way. Another part of him, the rougher part, wishes Aleks would respond to this by hooking his thumb against Eadric’s lower lip and pulling his mouth open, to draw him in, fuck his throat. He feels like that’s safer, somehow? Like he’s more likely to do a good job of it if Aleks is _taking_ what he wants.

But he doesn’t say that. It’d feel like a cop-out, anyway. He wants to _try_. So he starts by running his tongue up along the shaft, smooth-rough tongue wet and warm.

Aleks _groans_ , thighs tensing, fingers clenching briefly in Eadric’s hair--but he still wants to talk, because of _course_ he does. “ _Eadric_ \--f-fuck, wait, you’re gonna. Gonna want something for your knees, probably? Can I keep my hands in your hair, do you still want me to pull it?” His voice is strained, and the words come out rushed and fast and breathless, like he’s worried he’ll forget to say everything he needs to if he doesn’t get it out in the span of a single breath. Fuck, he _might_. Eadric’s barely touched him and he might be losing his mind.

Knees – right, he hadn’t thought of that. Eadric unzips his hoodie (a new one, blue, bought earlier that day after his black one ‘went missing’) and rolls it up to provide an improvised cushion.

“Yeah, you can pull,” Eadric breathes. What he doesn’t say is, _fuck, please do._ He encourages Aleks’ hand into the tresses and moves in to caress the head of his cock with his lips.

Aleks moans, openly, a grateful noise originating from somewhere deep in his chest. His hands in Eadric’s hair go from gentle carding to tightly-clenched fists, close to the roots, and the pull he gives is strong and constant, just barely enough to not dislodge Eadric. He’s hardening rapidly, cock flushing with blood. This close up, Eadric can see the tendons high up on his inner thighs trembling.

There are so few points of contact, but each one makes his nerves hum. There’s something about the way Aleks brings him in, too... It isn’t just liquid-hot, doesn’t just stir arousal in his gut. It’s reassuring. It soothes that niggling fear that Aleks is only indulging him, at best. Pretending, at worst. If he didn’t want Eadric, his body language wouldn’t be screaming _closer, closer, closer_.

Gently, he tries to ease the tension away. Strong fingers massage his taut thighs, and Eadric’s open mouth roams down towards his balls. He vaguely remembers what Aleks did, things that felt good, things he wonders if he could replicate.

“Fuck,” Aleks says, voice awed and shaky, trembling and tense all over with anticipation. “You’re--it’s okay, if you’re nervous, you’re already. You’re so good, I want this so bad, you’ve got this. You’ve got me. I trust you.”

Eadric breathes in and almost gets dizzy. This is where Aleks’ scent is strongest, and he’d be happy to just drown in it for a while. He’s barely done a thing, hasn’t even touched himself, and he’s so fucking turned on. He’s got to prove to himself those aren’t empty words, though. He’s got to prove to _Aleks_ that his trust is founded.

He draws circles with the tip of his tongue, draws himself back up to the head. Eadric doesn’t know much about this, but he knows he has to open his mouth wide enough, prevent teeth from getting in the way. So his lips stretch as wide as he can around the tip while he takes Aleks’ cock. He relaxes his jaw, sees how much he can swallow in a single motion.

Alek’s hands twist so tight in his hair, chest heaving, lips parted and face flushed red under the blindfold. His hips tremble, tremours running through him like Eadric isn't a _person_ but instead an earthquake, a force of nature, and he chokes out, “ _Oh_ , fuck, gods, Eadric, you-- nobody’s ever really-- Fuck, and I’ve been. I’ve been thinking about what you said, about dragging you down, and… _fuck_ .” He holds on and just shakes, as Eadric sucks around him; desperate desire to be gentle and still warring with the newness of sensation and the desire to _take_.

Good. He hadn’t meant to say it at the time, but Eadric feels a lot less embarrassed and a lot more powerful for having gotten to him. He wonders if the memory just slips to the forefront when Aleks isn’t expecting it; maybe he’s at work, maybe he’s on his way to run errands, when suddenly he’s hit with the idea of riding Eadric’s face and _he put that idea there._

He’s all the more determined to show Aleks that he could handle it, if he wanted to take control of this. Eadric sinks lower over his cock, swallowing him a little deeper with every bob of his head. The noise Aleks makes when his cock hits the back of Eadric's throat for the first time makes the discomfort worth it, an indescribable tangle of vowel sounds that might have at one point been intended to be Eadric's name. His breathing is fast and shallow, ragged panting, legs spreading wider without a thought.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Aleks says, voice wrecked with awe and wonder and hope, "D-do you actually-- _nngh_ . Do you actually _want that_?"

 _Gods, fuck, yes, please, fuck_.

He’s still learning how to breathe, how to suppress the reflex to choke or spit, how to run his tongue along the cock in his mouth every time he draws back. That’s fine. He’ll keep adapting, he’ll get better. Eadric just wants to be good for him, he wants that so fucking badly -

He hums. Low, in the back of his throat. He doesn’t know how else to convey all that. 

And then Aleks makes one of those _noises_ , one of the feral, desperate ones Eadric is sure would be a growl if he had the right vocal chords for it, that make him barely sound like _Aleks_ anymore--the same noise he made when he fisted his hand in Eadric’s hair and told him he was going to come from being fingered or he was going to _beg_ ; when he flipped Eadric over onto his hands and knees and bared his throat and demanded that Eadric tell him ‘ _Yes’;_ the same noise he’d made when he bit so hard into Eadric’s shoulder as he came that Eadric _still_ hides the teeth marks beneath his fur. Aleks’ hands in his hair go all at once from desperate clinging to commanding and firm, holding Eadric’s head still.

“Don’t try to suck, too much,” is the warning Eadric gets, and Aleks is breathless but his voice is low. “Breathe when I draw back. Hit--hit my leg, or something, if you want me to stop. I’m gonna go slow.”

Eadric commits every instruction to memory, but can’t fathom wanting Aleks to stop. He doesn’t think he cares if he can’t keep up. Aleks can _make_ him keep up. So he hums again, winding his arms around Aleks’ hips like he’s the only thing keeping Eadric from floating away.

He’s vibrating with heat. He wishes he’d stripped beforehand, but there’s something about this... Being clothed while Aleks isn’t, sucking him off while he resists the need to palm himself through his jeans? It feels good. He has no idea why.

He closes his eyes and lets his mouth fall open further. A scant amount, almost unnoticeable. He’s trying to welcome Aleks in, invite him to take all he wants. He gets the need to start slow but he’s doing his damn best to tell him that he won’t have to go easy on him.

Aleks couldn’t if he tried. The first push into Eadric’s throat is slow but steady, nothing hesitant, the head of Aleks’ cock dragging over Eadric’s soft palate. Aleks holds him there for only a moment, but he _does_ hold him there, through Eadric’s reflexive choke and the tiniest twitch Eadric gives, thoughtless and instinctive, to draw back. He doesn’t have time to be frustrated at himself for it before it’s made clear that Aleks is taking him at his word regarding wanting to be held down: his long fingers are buried deep in Eadric’s hair as he steadies him, holds him in place. Aleks draws back, panting quietly, and waits for Eadric to remember his instructions around breathing before pushing forward again.

He expects the discomfort this time and has a better grasp of embracing it. Aleks hits the back of his throat again and Eadric forces himself to swallow, muscle contracting around the head. There’s a thick taste to him, now; Eadric’s mouth is watering constantly, spreading the salt on his tongue.

It’s fucking magnificent.

“ _Eadric_ ,” Aleks groans, the rolling of his hips starting to take on something of a rhythm. The hands fisted in Eadric’s hair are used to drag him back off of Aleks’ cock, then to shove him back down again, and when the former happens the tight grip sends little prickles of pain down Eadric’s neck and for some unfathomable reason, that almost makes it better? Eadric can’t think of why and it doesn’t matter anyways, not with the way Aleks looks, Aleks _sounds_ , grunting softly above him. He needs to drag more of those sounds out of him. He needs an entire symphony of those noises playing at all times.

Eadric clutches his hips tighter, groans around his cock. Tries to move with the push and pull in spite of the half-formed inclination to resist. He just wants to see if Aleks will pull harder. Luckily for Eadric, the groaning gets Aleks to do exactly that _just_ fine: Aleks swears loudly, almost viciously if it weren’t so ragged, and then the same way as before he seems to forget himself all at once and really _let go_ . He yanks _hard_ on Eadric’s hair, until Eadric has to lean forward to reach his cock, like it’s a reward, and he starts to fuck Eadric’s throat in the same rough movements he used before, when he showed Eadric the limits he could push his body past; when he made Eadric come for the second time in a row with a slick fist tight around his knot. Fuck, just the thought -

Eadric’s hips twitch and his entire body shivers, convulsing like he’s been doused in heat. He moans again, he can’t help himself: he needs Aleks to know how good this is. He forces himself to open his eyes again and tries to drink in Aleks’ expression through a blur of moisture--Aleks’ mouth hangs open, face twisted up in overwhelming pleasure like he could grit his teeth through it, like he _has_ to in order to get through this. Eadric _did_ that. Eadric’s _doing that_ to him.

The moan makes something like recognition pass over Aleks’ face, and he grins in the victorious way Eadric’s only ever seen him manage with the blindfold on, confident and self-assured and full of filthy promise, and it makes Eadric’s cock throb in his pants. And then the hands in his hair are dragging him off, dragging him away, making him whine before he can think to contain it--because _no_ , that’s the _opposite_ of what he wants--and Aleks is grinning down at him sightlessly while he coughs and gasps for breath.

“You _like_ this,” Aleks breathes, with triumphant, joyous certainty, through his own heavy panting. “You _love_ this, don’t you. Tell me.”

If this was any other situation, any other time, Eadric would snap at him. Growl, swear at him, but not deny it because _holy fuck_ , he does. He’s never felt so goddamn proud of himself, and he’s so hard, he needs this so much.

“I fucking love this,” he rasps. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking do that to me.”

He needs to feel Aleks come down his throat. That’s his single-minded goal, the only thing he wants out of life at the moment.

“Make me swallow, c’mon, please —“

“Mother of _fuck_ , Eadric--” and Aleks’ hands force his head back, until he’s gasping at the ceiling, those involuntary tears prickling at the corners of his eyes spilling over and leaving tiny tracks on their way down into his hair. On his knees, neck bared, and there’s just the smallest-- The shortest instant of hesitation before Aleks growls out, “That’s it, just like that. _Beg._ ”

That tiny voice in the back of his head, the one that lashes out at anyone waiting for him to show weakness, fizzles and goes silent. Eadric groans.

“ _Ple-ease_...”

“You’re so good,” Aleks praises, voice like a promise, the grip on Eadric’s hair never wavering but his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Eadric’s temples. “So _fucking_ good. Please _what_?”

He almost doesn’t know how to answer. Thank the gods he doesn’t need to think to speak.

“Please fuck my face until you come and make me swallow,” he pants. “I wanna choke on your dick. Want you to fucking use my mouth.”

“Mother of _gods_ , Eadric,” and Aleks is pulling him down again, blessedly, and Eadric goes easy, _so easy;_ opens his mouth for it without even thinking. “You’re so fucking-- How are you even _real_ , I-- _yes._ ” And then Aleks is back in his throat, hips jerking with abandon, careless of the way that Eadric chokes and gags around him because Eadric _takes it_ . “God _fucking_ damn it, I’m so _fucking_ close--”

Eadric aches throughout his entire body. There’s this electrifying fog taking up his brain, and it must be confusing pain for pleasure because it feels so goddamn good. He doesn’t want it to end, but holy fuck does he want Aleks to come, he’s still begging for it in his head.

He whimpers when he breathes. Moans when he can’t. Pleads with Aleks without words to give it to him, give him everything, he’ll be so good —

Aleks forces him down roughly with a guttural shout as he comes, hard, pulsing into Eadric’s mouth for what seems to both of them like forever. His hands are twisted up so roughly in Eadric’s hair that he couldn’t pull back if he tried, but Eadric isn’t trying. It’s harder to swallow than he expected, and easier at the same time. There’s something greedy in the way he drinks it in; it keeps him from coughing, has him revelling in bitter-salt despite his inexperience. Come and saliva spills over his lower lip and down his chin. For the most part, though, he manages to take it.

Aleks shudders all over, panting like he just ran a marathon. He gives Eadric’s hair one last yank before letting go and demanding, voice rough, “Get up here, lemme touch you, lemme finish you, fuck, Eadric--”

He couldn’t care less if he comes, but he obeys. Eadric feels drunk; the world is entertainingly off-balance and everything feels nice. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more wanted.

Climbing over his lap, Eadric immediately burrows his face against his throat and moans. It sounds a lot like a growl, after the glorious abuse his throat just underwent. He doesn’t ask for anything. He can’t think of anything more he could even want. Aleks wraps him up in his arms anyways; blindly fumbles open his jeans and shoves down Eadric’s boxers just enough to get a grip on his cock. He strokes fast and hard, holding Eadric so close, muttering over and over and over, “You were so good; so good, so _fucking_ good for me, I’ve got you--”

Eadric latches to him. His fingertips dig into Aleks’ back and thank fuck he’d thought to retract his claws beforehand. He clings, groans, shudders. He doesn’t even realize how close he is until he’s breaking over his climax, Aleks’ words fading to a white-noise buzz in his head--’ _Eadric’_ and ‘ _got you_ ’ and ‘ _so good, so perfect’_ and just maybe one bitten-off, choked-up, sex-stupid ‘ _beautiful--’_

Aleks is there when he can think again, arms still so tight around him. He presses blind kisses where his face is buried in Eadric’s sweat-damp hair.

“You’re good?” Eadric murmurs, hazy. Aleks feels relaxed under his hands, but he doesn’t want to assume anything. They run down his back, then back up.

He almost forgets to listen to the answer because Aleks just feels so fucking nice.

Aleks presses his forehead to Eadric’s, though, nuzzling softly. “I’m _so_ good, Eadric, I’m--I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my _life_ . What about _you_ , did I… did I hurt you? Did you--did you like it?” There’s real fear there, just a thread of it, but it’s--subdued. Like maybe having Eadric in his arms is actually helping keep the fear out. Like maybe, just maybe, that’s something Eadric can _do_ for him.

“S’fucking amazing,” Eadric rumbles, probably muffled with his mouth loosely pressed to Aleks’ pulse. “You... are fucking amazing...”

He could melt against him, right here. He could stay like this all night. The world feels soft, from this position.

“You can do that... any time you fucking want.”

He feels more than hears Aleks’ breath hitch, but concern is a distant thing when Aleks’ fingers are back in his hair and they are so, _so_ very gentle. Very softly, like Eadric is something fragile, and with no small amount of wonder in his voice, Aleks tells him, “You’re purring.”

That’s embarrassing. Or it would be, if Eadric cared to be embarrassed right now.

“Don’t tell anyone I do that.”

Aleks laughs softly into his hair.

“Yeah, okay. I won’t.”


End file.
